When The Past Escapes You
by Paintedwings77
Summary: Sherlock finds himself face to face with someone he never suspected to have betrayed him. But before he can do anything about it he is knocked over the head and rendered unconscious. When Sherlock wakes up in the vast Appalachian Mountains in America, he has no memory of who he is. Now he must depend on one woman who will turn his world upside down, to help him remember his past.


**A/N, this is just a random idea I was hit with overnight. I do not own the characters from Sherlock.**

**Forgot me not**

**Manchester, England.**

Sherlock stood face to face with him. He had waited for this moment for what seemed like an eternity. He would finally get to the bottom of all the plots and heartache this man had caused him and John Watson over the years. All Sherlock wanted to know was why. Rising his gun to the man he knew all too well, he aimed it at his head without flinching.

-"Just explain to me why."

-"Oh come on now Sherlock, a smart man like you? You still have not figured it out?" The man laughed heartily. Sherlock ignored the question and waited. Once the man's laughter died down he straighten his blazer and his face became serious. "I really I'm disappointed in you Sherlock. I had high hopes that by now ..." The man shook his head sadly. "Well never mind that."

Sherlock glared at the man feeling his cool state of composure start to deteriorate.

-"Just tell me why!" He snapped, raising his voice as he cocked the gun to show he was serious.

The man once again laughed.

-"I'm sorry Sherlock, but I cannot tell you, you have to figure this one out all by your lonesome self, without the help of your trustee sidekick, and frankly I need you out of the way for a little while." The man waved his hand in the air. "And as fun as this small chat has been, I really must dash."

It didn't take Sherlock long to realize that he had walked right into a trap ... once again. Before he could even react, he felt a sudden sharp pain shoot through his head as he crumbled to the ground and darkness took over.

* * *

-"You poke him."

-"No way! You found him, you do it."

Two small boys argued back and forth over the limp body of a man. Josh and Adrian had been playing in the dense forest of the Appalachian Mountains, enjoying the last days of summer before school was back in session, when they had come across the body. Josh grabbed a dead branch and with a shaky hand he stood over a foot away from the body and extended a trembling hand as far as he could until the stick made contact with the stranger's dark wool blazer. Barely brushing the jacket with the stick, Josh pulled it back and took a step back in fear but the man never moved.

-"You didn't poke him hard enough." Adrian said bravely from behind Josh.

Josh thrust the stick into Adrian's hand.

-"Then you do it!"

With more bravado then he was feeling, Adrian squared his shoulders and took a few small tentative steps towards the man. With lightning speed and jerky moves he poked the man hard in the back of the shoulder-blade. The man moaned and both small boys let out a scream of terror, taking off running with speed towards home. As they ran the quarter-mile back to civilization, they soon came upon a well-travelled trail and without seeing where they were going, Josh crashed right into a woman walking, causing him to fall on his backside.

-"Ooww!" He cried as he hit the ground hard.

The woman gasped, dropping the bag she had been carrying. Slightly dazed she glanced down to see who had so rudely crashed into her.

-"Josh Monahan! You better have a good reason for scaring me half to death!"

The small boy scrambled to his feet and was panting hard from his run. He watched his friend Adrian scamper off through the trees and keep running, leaving him behind to face Clara Mackay on his own.

-"Sorry, miss Clara." He said between breaths. He quickly glanced behind him then back at the woman.

-"Okay, what trouble are you two getting into now?" Clara said sternly.

-"Nn-nothing." He stuttered.

-"I somehow don't believe that one." A loud crack of branches breaking came from behind Josh. With a yelp he rushed behind Clara and clutched at her shirt.

-"What the ..." Clara tried to twirl around to see what the boy was up too but it was quite obvious by his reaction that he was terrified of something. "Josh, you need to tell me what is going on, or I will have to tell your grandmother you are getting into trouble again."

Josh was eight and being raised by his elderly grandparents, who did not keep the best watch on the hyperactive young boy. He had a tendency of following the older boys of the neighborhood and getting into some trouble.

-"There is a man, Miss Clara! He was in the woods, me and Adrian thought he was dead, we just poked him twice, I swear!" He cried.

Clara furrowed her brow and with a bit of difficulty she finally separated herself from Josh's tight grip. Turning around to face him she crouched down at eye level.

-"Are you sure it was a man? Remember what we talked about things that are real and that are not real?" Clara asked him softly, knowing the boy had a tendency of letting his imagination get the better of him.

-"I swear! It was a real man. Adrian poked him with a stick and he moaned so we took off running. Honest!" His little freckled face was bright red from running and his eyes wide with fear.

Suddenly sure that Josh was not lying; Clara stood up and took the small boy's hand.

-"Show me where he was, he might be hurt and need help!" She urged him. The boy nodded and retraced his steps through the thick woods.

They soon arrived to the spot Josh had first seen the man, and sure enough to Clara's surprise there was indeed a man there. He was lying on his stomach with his face turned to the other side, away from them. Without hesitated she rushed over and knelt down.

-"Sir?" She carefully put a hand on his back. She felt her hand slowly rise and fall. "Well he is breathing." She then quickly reached into her pocket and dug out her cellphone. "Shit." She mumbled seeing the 'No Signal' message across the screen of her smart phone.

It was not unusual for cell service to be so unreliable in these parts of Vermont, but it did complicated things a lot more. She quickly turned to Josh, who was standing quietly off to the side.

-"Josh, run to town and find Mr. Anderson, tell him that a man is hurt and that he needs to come right away."

Josh nodded and wasted no time, he took off running, leaving Clara alone with the stranger. She glanced back down, where her hand was still pressed on his warm back. She ran her fingers on the back of his fine wool blazer he was wearing. He definitely was not from around here. No one wore wool in the summer and she doubted anyone local could even buy such a nice jacket. The stranger had a mop of jet black hair that was slightly curly and quite disheveled.

Biting her lower lip she mulled over what she should do next. Maybe she should try to turn him over. it couldn't be good for him to be lying face down like that. But if he was injured that might make things worse...

As she continued to think on what she should do next, her hand unconsciously ran up and down the man's strong back as if she was offering him silent comfort, the stranger suddenly moaned, scaring Clara half to death. She pulled her hand away with a gasp, but quickly scolded herself for being so silly.

-"Sir?" She said softly, "Are you alright?"

The stranger moaned again but this time he shifted slightly. With a loud groan his limp hand came up to his face.

-"Ugh ..." He moaned again, but this time he tried to lift himself up.

-"Here, wait, let me help you." Clara quickly got her feet and helped him sit up.

She then crouched back down and watched as the man clutched his forehead as if he was sporting the mother of all headaches. After a few moments of silence the stranger looked up at Clara, when her gaze met his she was taken aback by his eyes. It was the first thing she noticed. His eyes were the most beautiful shade of green and blue together, but not mixed, they also held some vivid specks of gold. They were very light, reminding her of frozen waters, they were the most breath-taking eyes she had ever seen.

The stranger blinked several times and breaking eye contact he quickly started to scan the area.

-"Where –" His voice croaked. He cleared his throat and licked his parched, cracked lips a couple of times making Clara wish she had brought a bottle of water. "Where I'm I?" He tried again.

His voice was low and rich and to Clara's surprise held a very heavy, proper, British accent.

-"You are near Goshen." The stranger furrowed his brow in confusion at the name of the town. "In Vermont, you are in Vermont."

-"Vermont?" His forehead creased even more. "That is in America?"

-"Yes." The man ran his hand through his thick mop of ebony curls. "What is your name? How did you get here?" Clara asked.

He shifted slightly, his face crinkled in pain as he attempted to stretch his long legs, but while he adjusted his position Clara immediately noticed the giant blood stain on his white button shirt under his grey black blazer. "Oh my god!" She gasped reaching for his chest. "You are hurt!"

The man looked down and inhaled sharply at the sight of the bright red blood. As Clara fingers made contact with the stain though she noticed that it was dried. But not taking a chance she quickly worked at the buttons and exposed part of his pale white chest. But with a quick examination it was obvious there was no indication of any sort of wound.

At the same moment thought the unknown man's hands went down to his chest to also examine his chest and both his and Clara's hands bumped. Seeing that he was not hurt and all too aware that she had her hands down a stranger's shirt, Clara blushed and pulled her hands away.

-"Well ... I don't think you are hurt ..." She mumbled uncomfortably. "Where did the blood come from?" She wondered out loud as she watched him silently button up his shirt. "And who are you ...?"

-"I –" He looked at Clara with a genuine look of panic in his eyes. "I don't know."

-"You don't know?"

-"I am unsure how I got here or who I am ..." He looked at Clara pleadingly. "Please ... who I am?"


End file.
